Sins of the Father

Disclaimer: All characters presented in the fic are the property of
J.K. Rowling. I just like to play with them on occasion

Author\'s Note: Written for elementaldeity for the dmhgficexchange on livejournal.


Special Thanks: Terri, Inell, Zephyr and especially nakhash_mekashefah
for the wonderful feed back especially in the eleventh hour.

Chapter
Eleven
Healing Remedies

When Draco and Hermione awoke the next morning, the first thought that crossed
their minds was the disbelief that they had truly spent the night together.
Having spent months tormented by dreams of the other, the dreams only worsening
during their separation, they had spent many a morning confronted by the cold
face of reality.



Before they could turn to face the other, a voice greeted them. "I see
that you took care of her last night, Malfoy," Ron Weasley bit out, trying
to hold his temper at finding his best friend naked in the arms of Draco
Malfoy.



Hermione\'s eyes flew wide open, realization dawning as she grasped the covers
to pull the tightly to her chin. She felt mortified. Ron walking in to find her
with Draco was nearly as horrifying as her father doing the same. Considering
his protective nature, she wasn\'t sure that even her father could have reacted
any worse than Ron.



"Malfoy, I gave you the benefit of the doubt. I even kept Harry from
returning last night when I saw how Hermione recoiled from his touch. But, to
take advantage of her after all that she went through last night, I wouldn\'t
have expected that little from even you," Ron finished, his voice echoing
off of the walls of the bedroom.



Draco stood from the bed, not bothering to cover his nakedness, rather
strolling out of the room, hissing, "Weasley, I do not have to defend
myself to you, but I will not have this conversation in front of Hermione. As
you so astutely pointed out, she has been through quite enough."



Hermione watched as her best friend turned his eyes back into the room. A
shooting pain pierced through her center as she saw the look of disappointment
flash before his eyes, despite his promise. "I\'ll be in to check on
you."



Hermione wasn\'t ashamed of last night. She hadn\'t been unduly influenced by
Draco. Those few moments this morning, when she had realized that it was
Draco\'s heart beating next to her own, had been nearly as fantastic as when
he\'d taken her over the crest of ecstasy time and time again last night. No,
her feelings stood now as they had last night. She belonged with Draco. Months
of trying to deny her feelings had done nothing more than bring them both
misery. It was time to face reality.



"For Merlin\'s sake, Malfoy, show some decency and cover yourself,"
Hermione heard Ron exclaim from the neighboring room. Knowing her best friend’s
temper as well as her- her what- her lover? Yes, Draco Malfoy was now her
lover. And as much as she loved Ron and, well, cared for Draco, she knew the
two of them could not be trusted alone for more than five minutes, especially
not when Ron had just walked in on her and Draco lying naked in each other\'s
arms.



Looking back on that moment, Draco would have given anything to take back the foolish
words he had uttered. He wasn\'t sure why he and Weasley seemed to, so
effectively, inflame the other. It had taken some time, but Potter and he had
found some semblance of cordiality, but not he and Ron.



Draco\'s blood boiled when Weasley started in on him and his despicable
treatment of "the only witch worth a Knut left in his life; the only
respectable witch that was willing to give him another chance."



He couldn\'t admit to Ron that he had fallen so hopelessly in love with Hermione
that he couldn\'t breathe properly when they were apart. He certainly would not
admit to repeatedly trying to dissuade Hermione from their lovemaking. Draco
was, despite all that had happened in his life, still a Malfoy. Not known for
weakness, confessions of love, nor tolerating incessant prying into his
personal matters, and so he responded as such.



"Do stop your drivel, Weasley," he drawled, affixing a smirk as he
fingered his wand with one hand and raked through his hair with the other.
"I can certainly appreciate your disappointment that I have yet
again been afforded a pleasure that you will never know, but I can assure you
that you have underestimated Hermione yet again. Her performance was certainly
worth more than a mere Knut."



If only Draco had known that Hermione had quickly slipped on her robe to follow
the wizards into the common area of the flat; how would he have reacted were he
to know that she had fully intended to assure her friend that she was exactly
where she wanted to be? But Draco did not know that, just as Hermione did not
know that only his foolish pride summoned his callous remarks. Pride that was
unable to allow Ron Weasley to see what he had shown Hermione last night - his
love.



"I certainly hope you feel as if you\'ve gotten your money\'s worth
Malfoy," Hermione spat angrily. Tears threatened to well in her eyes but
she willed them away. He had already made a fool of her once. She would not
give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.



Returning to her room to hurriedly dress, Hermione summoned a small bag and
packed some personal items inside. The last words she spoke before leaving had
been, "I expect that you will have the flat cleared of all personal
effects by tomorrow evening. Do not return."



That had been eight months ago. Roughly the same time period that they had
spent resisting their mutual attraction, they had spent yet again separated due
to his foolish words.



When Draco returned to his post within the Department of Mysteries, it quickly
became evident how little interaction was required between he and Hermione,
despite their shared workload. Where as before, they would approach their
research as a team, spending countless hours in the library exchanging ideas
and theories, Hermione had now taken a divide and conquer approach. Their
communication was done via owls or memos, meetings taking place only when they
needed to consult with their superiors over an issue.



While their prior self-imposed separation had left Draco feeling empty, with an
eternal longing for the comfort of her presence, it had been tolerable. What he
was feeling now however was unbearable. He saw her in passing within the
department and took note that, despite looking tired, Hermione looked just as
healthy as ever. Draco, however, could feel all of his energy draining from
him.



He knew, of course, what the source of his agony was. It was the ancient magic
that flowed through his veins. And while the arms of another witch who might
find him interesting would likely release Hermione and himself from their magical
bond, he refused to surrender the hope of making her his so long as he saw
evidence that she was still troubled by nightmares, still feeling the pain of
his absence in her life.



After four months, Draco had been too ill to continue working full days within
the Ministry. Arranging to work from his study in the Manor, equipped with a
number of reputable archaic sources from which to research, Draco continued to
suffer in the hopes that Hermione would surrender to her longing and send for
him.



Of course, that did not happen. Not the determined, prideful, Hermione Granger.
’No,’ Draco reasoned with himself, ’you betrayed a trust which she is
not likely to soon forget.’ That was when he realized he could very well
die waiting for Hermione to return to him.



They continued to correspond via owl, Hermione taking the initiative to assign
and prioritize different aspects of their research before sending him an
itemized schedule of their mutual responsibilities.



As Draco\'s health deteriorated, he realized that he had to find a way to get
her to speak to him again. If nothing more than to see for himself that her
pride was stronger than her longing, he would see her again. And so, he began
to question her assignments, at times revising the schedule to send her back
the more mundane tasks that she had assigned him. While the tone of their
correspondence certainly became less cordial and professional, still she did
not request a meeting.



It had been three months ago when Draco first collapsed. The house-elf, Tipsy,
had discovered him keeled over in his chair, the parchment containing
Hermione\'s revised schedule at his feet. When he awoke three days later, he
found himself in his bedchambers, tended to by the matronly elf.



"What\'s happened?" he questioned Tipsy, his voice cracking as the
words made their way out of his dry mouth.



"Master Malfoy. Tipsy found you at your desk. We were so worried, master;
we thought you was dead, we did. But Tipsy found you; Tipsy healed you."



Draco shook his head as the house-elf\'s incessant chatter assaulted his ears.
"Very well, Tipsy, if you would fetch me some tea I think I will rest
alone," he replied dismissively.



"Of course, master," the eager elf chirruped, bowing her head before
disappearing from the room.



As Draco rubbed at the throbbing above his eyes, he realized that it was not
only the chatter from the house-elf that had offended his senses. The curtain
in his chambers was parted slightly, allowing a bright light of early morning
sun to shine across the room. ’Had he been unconscious through the night?’
Draco wondered. It had been late afternoon when he had received Hermione\'s owl
and sat to consider what additional revisions he could offer in an effort to
bait her.



"How long have I been sleep?" Draco questioned Tipsy when she
returned with his requested tea.



"Oh sir, it has been three days since Tipsy found you. You were very ill.
If you did not wake today, we was going to ask Dobby at Hogwarts to send
Professor Snape to see you, we was!"



’Three days?’ Draco mentally exclaimed. He had been unconscious for
three whole days. "Did anyone call during my rest?"



"No sir, no one has called. The Ministry post came regularly, they did.
Yesterday, Sita told Tipsy she banished a dozen howlers to the dungeons."



Draco thanked the elf again for her assistance before dismissing her from his
presence with orders to not be disturbed before supper, unless summoned. How
had his life become so impossibly complicated? Two years ago, he wouldn\'t have
been concerned that he could disappear for three days without arousing concern.
Two years ago, the furthest thing from his mind would have been whether
Hermione Granger had noticed his absence. But now, that was all he could think
of.



Hermione had, in fact, noticed his absence, addressing the matter in a flurry
of owls. When her correspondence went unanswered for two days, she had sent a
dozen howlers the following day. She suspected that his resistance to her
research schedules was an attempt to lure her into meeting with him again. She
had been patient when confronted with his endless revisions, but ignoring her
was taking things too far. If Draco Malfoy wanted to meet with her this badly,
then she would gladly oblige.



When she arrived at Malfoy Manor, she had been in no mood to deal with the
kowtowing of his house-elves. She had gained some notoriety among them due to
her earlier attempts at liberating the creatures. And while many were wary of
her, there were others that were also aware of her participation in the war and
admired her compassion, if not her causes.



Tipsy, it seemed, was one of these elves. Despite Hermione\'s patient efforts to
enquire as to Draco\'s whereabouts, the elf continued to chatter on. "Tipsy
is very pleased to be meeting such a kind and gentle spirit; Tipsy has heard of
Miss Granger\'s compassion; we elves at Malfoy Manor respect Miss who saved our
master".



Unable to maintain her composure any longer, Hermione simply brushed past Tipsy
and let herself into the Manor. "Draco Malfoy," she called, her voice
echoing off of the walls in the nearly abandoned manor.

"Oh no, Miss," Tipsy hurriedly approached Hermione, "the master
is not well. He does not wish to be disturbed."



’I bet he doesn\'t,’ Hermione thought, as she considered the onslaught of
verbal accolades she had been subjected to since her arrival at the Manor.
"I must speak with Mr. Malfoy today. I have tried contacting him by more
conventional methods, but his non-response has forced me to call upon
him."



The house-elf appeared nervous, as if her body was trying to move in multiple
directions at one time. Hermione watched as Tipsy reached for a large
paperweight on the desk in the foyer before moving towards the staircase.
"Miss, Tipsy will see. Wait here," she ordered, as she hurriedly
climbed the staircase, thrusting the paperweight against her forehead in
penance.



Hermione decided to follow Tipsy, not wishing to risk being turned away from
the Manor without giving Draco a piece of her mind. When the house-elf
approached the room, Hermione spoke loudly, saving the elf from disobeying her
master and disturbing him. "Draco Malfoy, why have you not returned my
letters?"



That had been three months ago. Three months ago when Hermione looked into the
room to find Draco, lying defeated in his bedchamber, his pale skin and slight
frame validating Tipsy\'s testament to his health.



In that moment, Hermione forgot the anger and hurt she had felt towards Draco,
choosing instead to rush to his side. "What\'s happened to you,
Malfoy?"



Draco considered telling her the truth then. He wanted her back at any cost.
But as he considered the distinct possibility of her fleeing from him, feeling
even more used than when she overheard him speaking to Weasley, he chose
instead to remain silent.



When Hermione insisted that they contact a healer to address his illness, Draco
had protested, instead agreeing that she could conduct her own research. Truly,
he was pleased that Hermione would be investigating his illness. He could only
hope that she might come across his ailment on her own. If she had to find out,
he didn\'t want to risk her believing that he had taken advantage of her. Having
the facts presented in some medical text would alleviate him of that concern.



But over the months, Hermione had not discovered what was ailing him. Despite
the fact that they were again spending time together, Draco\'s health was
steadily failing him. They had triggered the magic and mere proximity would no
longer be enough to satisfy his need.



It had been two weeks ago that Hermione informed Draco she had contacted their
old Potions master in hopes that he could provide a brew to slow whatever
ailment was tormenting him. Draco considered again telling her the truth, but
could not bring himself to do so as he observed the genuine concern in her
brown eyes. He knew that this had gone too far. Severus would not be receptive
to such a disregard for his time, were he to learn of Draco\'s deception. But
Severus was no longer his Head of House. Draco was a Slytherin and would use
every form of trickery and deceit to get what he wanted. And Merlin, he wanted
Hermione.



A week after Draco tried Severus\'s first experimental brew, Draco again fell
into a state of unconsciousness. Hermione took leave from work and administered
the different remedies that the Potions master concocted, in the hopes of
reviving the young wizard. When Draco woke, not to the familiar chatter of
Tipsy, but to warm brown eyes, shining with tears, his heart nearly exploded
with emotion.



’Am I to die before she\'ll have me?’ he asked himself, as she sponged
his forehead and engaged him in meaningless banter.



“So, once again I find myself at the mercy of Nurse Granger,” Draco stated,
attempting to lace his voice with sarcasm, but his heart weakening the attempt.




Her response had been more than he could have hoped for, more than he could
have dreamed. Her words effectively, if not literally, conveyed her
forgiveness.



“As I recall, it wasn’t so bad last time. I only saved your life, after all,”
she continued, sitting back in her chair, her hand still stroking his hair.



Draco swallowed the potion that she held to his lips. As the burning passed
down his esophagus, it gave him the necessary steel to admit to her the truth.
"And yet, you will be the death of me," he responded simply without
dramatics, turning to lock her gaze into his own.



Hermione\'s eyes flashed momentarily, darting from side to side, showing her
confusion. "You can\'t mean the- the-" she trailed off, the wheels of
her mind turning as she considered the meaning behind his words. "Surely
if that were the cause, I too would be ill."



Draco\'s lips turned upward slightly into a rare smile. "Ahh, but you are
Muggle-born, whereas I am part Veela," he replied, anticipating her next
commentary. "Yes, full Veelas are female, but certain protections are
passed onto male progeny."



Hermione\'s gaze hardened slightly as she continued to look at Draco, bidding
him to continue with his eyes.



"When a male carrying Veela blood is in danger of not being able to
procreate, certain magic charms are enacted. It is very rare that this occurs,
as Malfoy\'s tend to marry quite young. However, in my case, the trauma I
experienced while held in captivity was substantial enough for the magical
protections to take effect."



Hermione sat silently, digesting the information that she had just been
presented. "Alright, Malfoy, so because of the danger to the Malfoy line,
somehow we were brought together through this magical bond. Why me?"



"That\'s hard to answer. I imagine from my perspective, as you were the
first person to have shown me kindness in so long, I could not have trusted
another."



"You said from your perspective, what do you mean?"



"Hermione, I know this is hard to digest, but the magical bonds created do
not impose themselves above free will. Were you not somehow attracted to me,
the initial reactions would have faded swiftly. The magic is there to assist
two suitable mates to expedite their likely union. It is not there to force
another to surrender against their will."



"But, we\'ve already been intimate, Malfoy. Why now; shouldn\'t that have
been enough to satisfy the magic?"



"Quite the contrary, our joining was likened unto a marriage contract, a
contract that has yet to be filled or nullified. After that union, the magic
that flows through my veins will not be satisfied until the conception of an
heir. There are, of course, other options that could be pursued. I could seek
another witch to satisfy the demands of my blood."



Hermione\'s eyes crinkled at Draco\'s last statement, "You could, but
didn’t; why not? Surely there are a number of witches that would be happy to
marry into the Malfoy legacy."



Draco studied her face carefully, looking for some sign that would indicate how
his words would be received. Finding none, he shouldered on. "You are
right, Hermione. I could have had my pick of witches. As to why not, quite
simply none of them were you.



"I cannot tell you how I regret what I said to Weasley that morning. I
allowed my distaste for him to overshadow my affection for you and talked about
you as if you meant nothing more to me than a good shag.



"If I could take it all back, I would have warded the flat myself that
evening and kept you in bed for a week straight. That night spent with you was
the best night of my life. Despite the physical pleasures that we shared, you
touched my soul with your kiss and that is not something that I can easily
forget.



"I have not sought out another, because I know the magic that runs in my
veins. I\'ve seen that your nights are still interrupted by nightmares, that you
have not cast me out of your heart. If you had, then I would not still haunt
your dreams. How could I possibly seek another, when the one who has already
branded me as her own holds me still in her heart?"



Hermione remained speechless as she studied Draco\'s eyes. The light that
reflected in the tears that had settled above his lenses radiated the truth of
his words. "You idiot," she scoffed unexpectedly, slapping his
shoulder, "you arrogant, foolish, stupid jackass!"



Draco\'s face frowned in confusion at her outburst. He had prepared himself for
rejection, had hoped for pardon, but had not anticipated this slew of
name-calling.



"Do you mean to tell me that you not only let me believe that you thought
little more of me than a high priced whore, but have resigned yourself to
death, as well? Why didn\'t you tell me?" she demanded, before falling upon
him. "If you knew all of this time that I still yearned for you, surely
you had to know I would take you back? How could I not? You were not the only
one who was touched that night. No matter how hard I\'ve tried, I cannot erase
your touch, taste, or smell from my dreams."



Draco took Hermione in his arms, warmth flooding him, masking the pain that had
set into his body in the past months. "I don\'t know why I doubted you,
perhaps because I know that I don\'t deserve you. I feared you would think that
you had been trapped under some \'ancient spell\' against your will."



"You mean, kind of like I have been," she asked, chuckling lightly
before allowing him to pull her lips to his.



Their kiss was every bit as explosive as the first and Draco could feel his
blood begin to boil in anticipation of receiving her love, yet again. As
Hermione\'s hands splayed on his chest, running across his shirt, generating a
warmth and friction that increased the energy between them, Draco forced
himself to pull from her kiss.



"Hermione, consider your actions carefully. I don\'t want you to surrender
in an act of pity. The blood in my veins calls for a child. The consequences of
tonight will be life altering, no matter what your choice."



Smiling seductively, Hermione grinned, "Performance anxiety? I would have
never expected it from you."



Draco\'s face remained serene as he gazed into her eyes, his love for the witch
hitting him with a clarity he had never known before. "Hermione, I can
assure you that the only anxiety I am experiencing is the fear that you will
refuse me. But I promise that, if you accept me as your own, I will strive to
exceed every expectation you have set for me. I love you, Hermione
Granger."



Hermione looked into Draco\'s passionate eyes to see nothing but love. Unable to
form words worthy of his soul-baring confession, to see him bare, exposed and
vulnerable, stirred the love that she had tried to deny for so long. Hermione
kissed him briefly before sitting up to pull her jumper over her head.



"Draco Malfoy, I offer you my heart, body, and soul. In baring my flesh to
you, I reveal my all. Take me as your helpmate. I promise to love, cherish, and
protect you always. From my flesh, may your heirs be born, from my heart may
our family be loved, from my strength may our union flourish."



Draco\'s eyes looked upon Hermione\'s naked form as she completed the words to
the oldest bonding ritual known to wizard kind. Her intentions plain, his heart
quickened as he reached for the hem of his jumper.



"Hermione Granger, I accept your promise. To you I pledge my heart, body,
and soul. In revealing my flesh to you I am giving you my all. I promise to
love, cherish, and protect you always. From my seed may our children grow, from
my hands may our lives be fruitful, from my strength may our family remain
safe."



As he sat before her naked, Draco welcomed the comforting weight of Hermione\'s
body as she lay out above him. As she offered him the palms of her hands, he
took them, lacing her fingers with his own. As Draco entered Hermione, they
spoke as one.



"We pledge our lives to one another before the gods on earth and above.
May you bless this union and find it pleasing in your eyes as we honor you with
our love."



Their union complete, Hermione and Draco were sated in both love and passion;
Draco felt the life-giving energy from Hermione\'s womb. As he looked upon his
bride with adoration, Draco moved his hand to her stomach, amazed by the
perfection of Hermione\'s healing remedies.